I Promise
by xxanglophilexx
Summary: After the death of Lily's parents, James comforts Lily. Oneshot. JPLE.


**A/N: A rather long James comforting Lily one-shot. There may be a slight bit of OOCness, but I think that it works under the circumstances.**

**Disclaimer: When JK starts selling the rights to Harry Potter to teenagers, let me know. Until then, I own nothing. **

oOoOo

"Where is she?" James Potter muttered to himself as his head whipped around, his eyes searching in the darkness of the corridor. "Lily?"

Even though James had pledged his undying love to Lily, a fact which he had announced seven times, that didn't mean that he was fine with her skipping out on Head Girl duties. It had happened only once before, when she had broken her wrist and had spent the night in the hospital wing (which wasn't skipping, exactly. She had just "accidentally" forgotten to inform James about it). That one time was enough, though. Robert Lowe had hexed him when James had pulled the Slytherin and his girlfriend out of a broom closet, and James had walked on jelly legs for two days. He did not wish to relive that. He found that Lily was the more formidable one of the team. If Lowe had hexed her, he would've spent the following week in the company of Madame Pomfrey.

That was how James found himself completely ignoring his Head rounds to search for Lily. He rationalized with himself that he needed his Head Girl to make the rounds with him, when he was really just a little worried about Lily. Lily Evans never avoided rounds without a very good excuse.

A quiet sniffling noise interrupted James's search for Lily. He groaned inwardly when he heard it. The noise was decidedly female, since no self-respecting male at Hogwarts, not even a Hufflepuff, would cry in the corridor. Females, on the other hand, James discerned, did not have much of a problem with publicly displaying their emotions.

Sighing, James trudged in the opposite direction of where he was planning. He would have to pause his search to console a poor crying girl. He inwardly winced. James hated it when girls cried. It always made him feel so strange and awkward, and he never knew what to do around them. It was usually Lily's job to take care of girls sobbing over cheating boyfriends, backstabbing friends, and bad hair days. He had never done it on his own before.

He silently cursed the love of his life before carefully making his way down the corridor. He prepared for the worst. Would it be a sobbing fit? Would the girl be declaring her hate for all mankind? Would she try to castrate him? He shuddered.

James held up in lit wand as he maneuvered forward. He saw the girl sitting with her back angled to the corner, her knees bent to her chest and her face dropped onto her hands. Her red hair was hanging loosely around her, clashing with her crimson dressing gown. Even though James couldn't see the girl's face, the hair was enough of a tell-tale sign.

James had to keep his step steady and quiet so he wouldn't startle Lily, when in all truthfulness he would have rather rushed down the hallway. He had learned to (occasionally) control his impulses around Lily, and knew that she would take off if she noticed him.

When he was in front of her, he stared down at her small, shaking form. It only took him a matter of seconds to silently drop to the floor next to her, pressing his own back against the stone wall. He couldn't help but think that Hogwarts hadn't built its corridors for sitting, which was proved by the extremely cold and hard stone floor.

"Lily?" he whispered tentatively, not daring to touch her. Laying a hand on her usually ended up in a trip to his good friend Poppy Pomfrey.

Lily slowly lifted her head off of her arms. She looked awful, James noticed, and that was coming from the man that had pictures of her when she had first woken up in the morning without seeing a brush or a shower. It was truthful, though. Her normally pale skin looked an unnatural white in the dim light of James's wand. Her eyeliner was smudged, making dark shadows beneath her eyes, and her mascara had left streaks of black on her cheeks. Her lip gloss had rubbed off of her mouth, although some of it remained on her chin. She was in a pair of pyjamas that James recognized as her own, but the dressing gown did not belong to her, as it was several sizes too big, and crimson. Lily felt an abnormal hatred towards one of their house colors because it looked awful with her hair. James realized from the initials "SB" stitched on the front pocket that it was the dressing gown that Sirius had left thrown over a chair in the common room the night before.

In all of her smudged, crying glory, Lily whispered, "Sod off." It was with none of the usual vehemence, and there was not even any spirit put into it. Her eyes looked dark and hollow as she spoke. There was no sign of the famous Lily Evans temper.

"No," James replied quietly, shocking neither Lily nor himself. "I'm not leaving you."

"Just leave me alone. I'm fine," Lily insisted.

"No." James tried to meet her eyes, but she immediately lowered them to study her pyjama pants. "Lily," he tried again, but she didn't look up. "I'm not moving until you tell me what's wrong with you."

"I'm fine, Potter," she said, her teeth gritted and her voice low. "Fine.

"You're not fine," James replied. "You're crying. You never cry. Ever."

"I fell down and twisted my ankle," Lily offered without much conviction. "It hurts."

"You didn't twist your ankle."

"How would you know that, Potter?" Lily demanded, her voice rising slightly.

"Because when you broke your wrist last October, you smacked me with your good hand and then walked to the hospital wing yourself. You wouldn't cry over a twisted ankle."

"Maybe I just have sensitive ankles."

"You don't."

James prided himself on knowing everything about Lily. He nearly had a photographic memory when it came to her. He remembered the day that she had accidentally sneezed on him (Thursday, March 21, 1974), the day she had thrown up in the common room (Saturday, November 11, 1972), and the day when she had attempted to push him out a window (Tuesday, October 14, 1975). He also knew that she did not, in fact, have sensitive ankles. Any person who could have danced through that ball in sixth year in heels as high as Lily's has been had to have strong ankles, especially when said person had a slight tendency to trip in heels, as Lily did.

"C'mon, Lily," James prodded. "Tell me."

"Why do you care?" she asked harshly. "You don't. You don't care, Potter."

Lily started to stand up, but James's hand quickly caught her wrist. He pulled her down onto the stone floor, seeing her obvious wince, but surprisingly finding himself not caring. There were worse things going on with Lily than a bruised bum.

"Let go of me!" Lily said in a terse whisper as James grasped onto her, pulling her back down to the ground as she fought to stand up.

"No, Lily!" James exploded. "You're going to sit here and talk to me!"

"Potter! You disgusting, foul…" Lily searched for more insults inside her head, but she was just too tired. "Bugger," she muttered as she relaxed her body against the stone wall. "I hate you."

"I know that," James replied, breathing in deeply. "Sorry for the outburst."

"Okay," Lily mumbled, deliberately looking away from James.

"Lily." He tentatively touched her shoulder and turned her upper body towards him. "Talk to me. Please."

"If I had my wand right now, I would hex you," Lily said as a warning. "I forgot it…somewhere."

"You were in a hurry to leave," James said understandingly.

She nodded. "I was. I was in my pyjamas…I had a lot on my mind, I suppose I forgot about duties…and then…it came…and…I ran. Someone left their dressing gown in the common room, so I borrowed it…"

"It's Sirius's."

Lily wrinkled her nose slightly. "I thought that it smelled like dog."

Lily did not know about the Marauders' Animagi abilities, but she did know that Sirius and Remus quite often smelled like dog, Sirius especially. The fact that she was wearing a dressing robe that belonged to Sirius, who wasn't exactly her favorite person, didn't do much to improve her mood.

"I guess it's better than nothing," she finally said.

"Lily…why did you run out like that?" James asked, running his hand through his hair.

"I got a letter," Lily said. "The Muggle way. I'm not sure how, but Dumbledore had me go down to his office to get it, and then I brought it up to my dorm to read. Then…I bolted."

"What did the letter say?"

"Why should I tell you?" she countered.

"Look, Lily. You're crying in a corridor over something in a letter, and I happen to be here. So can you pretend for five minutes that you don't despise me and tell me what happened?"

Lily inaudibly murmured, "I don't despise you," but the words were lost on James. He was too concentrated on his mission to get Lily to open up to him.

James cocked his head to the side and met her eyes, refusing to blink or move. Lily found herself feeling dizzy as she battled to keep her eyes open, but she finally gave up and let herself blink. She pressed her back flat against the wall and began to study the fabulously interesting floor.

"It was from Petunia," she said without moving her eyes. "My sister, Petunia."

James nodded. He hadn't needed the extra explanation. He had eavesdropped on many conversations between Lily and her friend about Petunia.

"What did it say?" James prodded.

"It said…" She trailed off, and her voice dropped to a near whisper. "They're dead."

"Who, Lily? Who's dead?"

James almost felt like he was talking to a child. She had her arms clutched around her knees, and was rocking back and forth slightly. Her eyes were glazed over. She wasn't responding.

"My parents." Lily's eyes began to tear once again. "I killed them."

"I'm sure you didn't—"

"I killed them, James. It was…_him_. He-Who…He-Who… Damn it, it was Voldemort!"

Lily started to hyperventilate as James looked on in alarm. He felt like he should do something, but he didn't know what.

Lily's jagged breaths were the only sound that could be heard in the corridor. She was fighting for air, and tears were streaming down her cheeks, black droplets falling onto Sirius's dressing gown. James felt helpless as he watched. Lily never broke down like this. Lily was strong. She didn't…she didn't…

She didn't fall into his arms.

But she did. With a heave, she collapsed inadvertently into James's arms. He could feel her shaking body against him, and immediately wrapped his arms around her back. He held her tight against him, a completely new experience. Under any other circumstances, he would have been doing a mental happy dance. Under these circumstances, he was just more worried about Lily's wellbeing.

His eyes darted up when he sensed someone in the corridor. Sure enough, Filch and Mrs. Norris were walking towards them. Mrs. Norris looked as happy as usual to catch students in the halls, but Filch looked off-put. Even he knew that Lily Evans did not cry, and she certainly didn't do it in James's arms.

James mouthed, "her parents," and, "the Dark Lord," hoping that Filch would understand. The caretaker did, and simply nodded as he turned. Filch's sister had been killed four months ago at the hands of Death Eaters. He had enough heart to leave them alone.

"It's alright, Lily," James muttered into her hair. He had heard Remus try to soothe Sirius with these words after he received a particularly nasty letter from his parents, and he had watched Frank embrace Alice after the death of her father, repeating those words like mantra. James himself had never really comforted anyone before, but he had also heard those words from other people to himself last summer.

"It's not alright," Lily replied in a strained voice, her mouth moving against his chest. "It's not."

Was it possible to feel out of place yet at home at the same time? James pondered that as he held onto Lily. The situation had a twinge of awkwardness to in, in the sense that holding Lily Evans in his arms while she cried was on the list of things that James Potter would never get to do, considering, as he had thought previously, as Lily Evans did not cry (until now), and the last time he had touched her on the arm, she had charmed the word "wanker" to flash across his forehead at the most inopportune moments. Frankly, with all of the unexpectedness, it was out of place.

Despite that, James felt almost content. He felt like his arms belonged around Lily, despite the fact that she hated him. His hands felt right loosely entangled in Lily's red hair, and her body felt right curled against his. She was almost a foot shorter than he was, and managed to fit against him perfectly. With her fists clutching the front of his robes and her face pressed against his chest, he felt at home.

He held her until her tears finally faded to dry, heaving sobs, and until the sobs turned to heavy breathing. Her hands loosened their grip on his robes as she lifted her head up, her eyes meeting James's. She swallowed.

"I shouldn't be here," she whispered hoarsely, resting her head on the crook of his shoulder. "I should be doing my rounds."

"It's fine," James said.

"No. I can't slack off on my duties. Dumbledore—"

"—won't mind. He won't, Lily. You can take a break."

"I shouldn't abandon my duties just because of what happened…"

"You have every right to take a night off."

"No, I don't." She buried her face deeper into his shoulder. "James, I killed them."

"Don't be silly. You didn't, Lils. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. Petunia…she wrote…and she was right."

"What did she write?" James asked, desperate to be filled in on the details that he was lacking.

"It's my fault, James. If I wasn't a witch, they'd still be alive."

"That's mad, Lily," James scoffed. "Don't tell me you believe that."

"It's true!" she insisted quietly, but with force. "If I was a muggle, then they would still be alive."

"It's not your fault that you're a witch. You can't help that."

"But I could have done something!"

"No, you couldn't have, and you know it. You're smart, Lily. You have common sense. Don't try to delude yourself into thinking something that makes no sense."

"What do you know?" she demanded, lifting her face from the comfort of his shoulder. James's stomach contorted as he saw some of the old Lily Evans hatred flame in her eyes. "Nothing, Potter! You know nothing! You don't know how this feels! Stop trying to make it better! It's my fault, and I know it!"

"Shut up!" James said in a harsh whisper. "Shut up, Lily! Before you start going off on me, could you just think for a moment? You were the one that was crying, and I was the one who came to comfort you, even though I can't stand it when people cry. I came to help you, so don't insult me! And give me a little credit, Evans. I do have a brain, I do have feelings, and I know _exactly _what you're going through, because my parents are dead too!"

Lily blinked, letting a hot tear fall from the confinements of her thick eyelashes and burn a path down her cheek. She ignored it, choosing to blink again. James never spoke to her like that. She had never felt so small in her life.

"Merlin…I'm sorry," she apologized, looking down. "I didn't know."

"Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt you for once to give a damn about someone else."

James really didn't know what had come over him. He never yelled at Lily. Never. She did the yelling. But now, did it really come as a surprise? Lily was crying and James was yelling. Everything was upside down.

Lily noticed that James still had his arms wrapped around her, even though he was angry. The situation now suddenly felt wrong. She had been so awful, expecting comfort and then yelling at him cluelessly. She tried to pull out of his arms.

"I'll go," she said. "Sorry."

"No," James replied, still holding onto her. "You're not going."

"James, let me—"

"Lily, I think it's obvious that while I may be a prat, I'm the one who's actually behaving at the moment, and you are the one who is making an arse of herself. That gives me a little more control over the situation, doesn't it? Lily, I care about you, and I'm here for you. But please don't push me away, and please don't do anything stupid, because we both bloody well know that you will never open up like this again, so you might as well get it all out!"

"You yelled at me again," Lily said dully, her eyes wide with shock. It was the only thing that she could think of saying.

"Yes," James said, panting as he relaxed against the wall. He swallowed, pressing a hand to his temple. "Bloody hell, I yelled at you."

"You did," Lily agreed, nodding her head.

"I shouldn't have."

"I deserved it."

"No, you didn't. Your parents just died, and your sister is a clueless muggle. You're messed up. I really shouldn't have yelled at you."

"You probably shouldn't have," Lily finally replied. "But you did, and…don't feel bad about it."

Lily slowly let herself unwind, slumping once again into James's arms. She burrowed against his chest, clinging onto him in an almost desperate way that was so unlike Lily that it was surreal.

"This is strange." She looked up into his eyes. "I feel strange. How did you feel? After your parents…you know," she finished, not wanting to actually say the words.

"Strange," James replied with a definitive nod. "Detached. I think I was in denial. I didn't want to believe it."

"Where were you?"

"I was at Remus's with Sirius and Peter. It was July 31st." He sighed. "I had only been home for a week before going off with the Marauders. I felt so guilty for not staying longer. Like…like I could have prevented it."

"But then…he could have…" Lily trailed off, not wanting to utter the end of that sentence either.

"Killed me," James finished. "I know. At the time, though, I was blaming myself. Like you are now."

"Did you cry?" Lily asked. She had no idea what was compelling her to delve into James's personal life, but she decided to continue. She figured that having cried in front of him, something that she had never even voluntarily done in front of her mother, she deserved to ask questions.

"No." James shook his head. "Not then, anyways. I couldn't. Even at the funeral, I couldn't. My aunt thought that there was something wrong with me, but…I didn't cry."

"Did you ever cry?"

He nodded. "Yes. A week into this year. Sirius was complaining about his mother and…I don't know…I just started to cry. The guys were a little alarmed…Sirius had no idea what to do with me. He started babbling about getting Poppy, because he thought that there was something wrong with me. Peter managed to awkwardly help, but Remus did the best. He's good with feelings."

"I didn't feel like I could cry in front of my friends," Lily admitted, looking at the wall. "That's why I ran. They weren't in the room yet, but I knew that I would start crying, and I couldn't let them see me."

"Why not?" James asked. "Why can't you let people see you when you're vulnerable?"

"I can barely handle it myself. No one else would be able to." She looked up at him. "Except you, maybe." She laughed quietly. "Why, James? Why?"

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "I'm usually not too good at these kinds of things."

She shook her head. "Could've fooled me. You—you of all people—actually managed to…let me cry."

"I care, Lily. You know I do."

"Yes." She was thoughtful. "I think I care, too."

James felt particularly daring after Lily's last statement, so he leaned his head so it was resting atop hers. She didn't seem concerned or uncomfortable, but almost content. If James hadn't been too preoccupied with the scent of Lily's glorious hair, he would have made a mental remark about how strange it was that Lily was so mellow after what had just happened, or how it was amazing that she hadn't tried to curse him yet. He was too enraptured by the object of his affections and obsessions to think of anything else, though.

"James?" Lily started drowsily, breathing in the scent of his neck.

"Yes?" he mumbled into her hair.

"I can't believe we're doing this."

"Me neither."

"I kind of like it."

"Me too."

She pulled out of his grasp and met his eyes with hers. James was shocked to see her expression. She looked so childlike, so unnaturally vulnerable. So unlike fiery, confident Lily Evans.

"Promise me," she said simply.

"Promise you what?"

"That you won't go away tomorrow."

James, with his volumes of Lily-based literature and his collection of Lily-centric photo albums, thought this was a ridiculous question with an obvious answer. But Lily, with her sudden lack of parents and her scary new-found vulnerability, thought otherwise.

"I promise," James replied. "I will never go away."

"That may prove to be annoying," Lily muttered, "but I'll take it."

Somewhat comfortably, she burrowed back down into James's arms, relaxing against his chest. It was so strange, so foreign…yet so right. She had no idea why she was suddenly _depending _on James, her sworn enemy, and asking him not to leave her. It was all insanity.

She sighed. She would deal with her questionable mental state tomorrow. For now she would just rest in his arms and close her eyes for a minute. Just for a moment or two…

Ten minutes later, James looked down at a soundly sleeping Lily. He smiled as he listened to her steady breathing. Hopefully she was more at peace now than she had been earlier.

James slowly stood up, scooping Lily into his arms. She stayed perfectly asleep, not even making the smallest disturbed noise. Lily was a heavy sleeper. That made it quite easy for him to maneuver her to the nearest stairwell, though. They passed by Filch and he acknowledged him with a sad nod of his head. Filch having feelings was another inexplicable part of this strange night.

When they reached the Gryffindor dorm, James quickly muttered, "Hopping Hippogriffs," the password and Dumbledore's (a strange fellow, he was) new catchphrase. The Fat Lady whispered, "Poor girl, poor girl," as he carried Lily in.

The common room was silent. Quills and open books were scattered across chairs, tables, and the floor, along with essays and scraps of parchment. Doris Kington was asleep underneath the table, William Driscoll was snoring in front of the fireplace, and Ellie Markus was napping next to Henrietta Dillon on a couch. James crept quietly into the room, Lily still asleep in his arms. He didn't want to awake any of the sleeping students. He knew that Lily wouldn't appreciate being seen in James's arms, even if she was asleep.

Since he hadn't yet been able to figure out how to get up to the girls' dormitories and knew that Lily would castrate him if he took her up to his room, he opted to let her sleep in the common room. He gently set her down on an empty couch, slipping a pillow beneath her head. She made a small noise, but didn't move. James pulled a gold blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Lily. He took off her slippers and tucked the blanket around her feet. She had always had cold feet.

James randomly plucked a quill off the table and a piece of blank parchment. He kneeled down in front of the arm of the couch and bore down on it to write.

_Lily—_

_I won't leave you tomorrow. I never will. It's your choice now—you can come to me. If not, I'll pretend last night didn't happen for your sake. But I'll always remember it._

Fully knowing how cheesy it would sound, James put the final touch on the cliché note.

_I'll always be there for you, Lily. I'll never leave you. I promise._

—_James _

Satisfied, James folded the parchment into eighths and tucked it into the pocket of Sirius's dressing gown, hoping that she would find it in the morning. On an impulse, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. He could have sworn he saw the corners of her lips upturn slightly.

When he would retell this story on their wedding day, it would include many more dramatics, Lily professing her love for him, and his new wife smacking him repeatedly on the side of the head and wondering what idiot gave her husband a microphone. But now it was a simplistic thing as he walked away slowly, his eyes not leaving Lily until he ran into the wall next to the staircase.

"I love you, Lils," he mouthed to the sleeping common room before bolting up the stairs. He wanted to fall asleep with the feeling of Lily still with him to carry onto his dreams.

In the common room, Lily Evans slept on and didn't wake up until the sounds of hungry Gryffindors reached her ears in the morning. She later told her friends parts and bits of the edited story, and was always there to correct James when his retelling got a little too off base. But what she would never tell anyone, not even her husband on their wedding day, was that the only thing that kept the nightmares away that night was the memory of James's arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe.


End file.
